


Bringing Your Son to Work

by eafay70



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8573245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/pseuds/eafay70
Summary: Neymar has to bring Davi Lucca along while cleaning houses.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aguantare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aguantare/gifts).



> Your series makes me think about difficult things. It isn't fun, but it's important. Thank you.
> 
> This story is inspired by real life, specifically mine. The women who clean my house are a mother and (adult) daughter from Brazil, and when schools closed for Passover last spring, they had to bring their (grand)son along to my house. I wound up playing with him on my Duolingo app, since I happen to speak Portuguese. (I've learned a few words from the cleaning ladies, in fact.) He went from shy to chatty as we played, then back to shy when they went to my grandmother's house afterwards.
> 
> In light of last week's election (yes, it was only a week ago), I find myself rethinking my actions that day, and my tendency to speak Portuguese with the cleaning ladies in general. I haven't reached any new conclusions beyond "do not discuss with neighbors, who are mostly Republican - discuss instead with friends, who are Democrats like you."

Neymar had lived in the US long enough to know that the Jewish holidays calendar was unpredictable at best. He'd lived in this particular area long enough to expect schools to close for major Jewish holidays. Yet it still came as a surprise when Davi Lucca came home with a reminder that school would be closed the following Monday and the Wednesday of the week after that. "It's the Jewish new year, papai!" the boy explained happily. "We got to eat apples and honey, and we listened to a chauffeur horn from a ram!"  
_"Muito legal, amorzinho."_ Neymar took a deep breath. "You know that I work in a lot of houses those days, right?"  
"I know. I can help! It'll be fun!"  
Neymar smiled, hoping his son wouldn't pick up on his worry. The upper-middle-class neighborhood in which Neymar cleaned houses was very right-wing, and most of the house owners didn't think he understood English, judging by the cruel words he heard muttered under their breath. Davi Lucca was quite observant, so there was a good chance he'd hear something that Neymar didn't want to have to explain.

The first house of the week belonged to the Yaffi family, whose patriarch was famous for several mayoral campaigns which all failed because of his pro-Medicaid stance. He was a retired...accountant, maybe? Neymar wasn't sure, but he did know that Mrs. Yaffi was a phlebotomist and that their daughter was a self-taught language nerd who was living at home after not quite finishing a study abroad program.  
That particular knowledge came from the second house of the week, which belonged to Mrs. Har-Sardeh, Mrs. Yaffi's mother who loved telling anyone who would listen about her five children, three sons-in-law, two daughters-in-law, and twenty grandchildren in great detail. Mrs. H., as she preferred to be called, had told Neymar that Dalia was very intelligent, "but she just couldn't make it on her own, the poor unhappy thing. She's twenty-one and sitting around doing nothing! I was pregnant with her uncle at twenty-one!" (Neymar didn't tell Mrs. H. that he had been living in this country on his own for five years at twenty-one.)

Davi Lucca didn't know any of that as they pulled into the driveway. All he knew was that the house was huge. "How many people live in such a big house, papai?"  
"Three people and two cats."  
_"Só isso? Nossa!"_  
Father and son entered the house. Dalia smiled in greeting. _"Bom dia, tudo bem?"_  
_"Tudo."_ Neymar pushed his son forward, trying to get him to let go of his leg. "The schools are closed. This is my son with me today."  
"I see!" She knelt down to shake Davi Lucca's hand. "My name is Dalia! What's yours?" The boy said nothing. _"O meu nome é Dalia. Qual o seu nome, meu senhor?"_  
"Davi Lucca," said Neymar. "He's shy in both English and Portuguese."  
"Ah." Dalia stood up and moved to a different room.  
Before doing anything else, Neymar led Davi Lucca to an alcove on the second floor. He pointed to the dollhouse. "You stay here, OK?" The boy nodded, and Neymar went to work.

It took Neymar about three hours to clean the house. When he was finished, he went back to the alcove and saw...nobody. Then he heard laughing from down the hall. He followed it to Dalia's bedroom, where he heard Dalia say, _"Você vai ganhar!"_  
"Yay!" That was Davi Lucca.  
Neymar knocked on the door. Dalia opened it to reveal a game of tic-tac-toe. "It's time for you to go, young man."  
"Papai!" Davi Lucca ran forward.  
"What do you say?"  
_"Obrigado!"_  
Dalia smiled. _"Obrigada, meus senhores. Tchau!"_

"She was nice, papai," said Davi Lucca in the car. "She wants to learn Portuguese, but she gets a lot of words confused. So I helped her with the app on her phone. It was cool! And then we played with the dolls, and we tried to find the cats but we couldn't, and we played tic-tac-toe a bunch of times and I won!"  
"That's great." Neymar parked in front of a small condo. "This is Dalia's grandma's house."  
"It's tiny!"  
"She lives alone."  
They entered the house. "Hello, Neymar!" Mrs. H. was cheerful, as always. "And who's this ray of sunshine?"  
Davi Lucca didn't say anything, so Neymar answered for him. "This is my son, Davi Lucca."  
"Shy, aren't you?" Mrs. H. chuckled. "That's alright. You can play with my magnetic synagogue." She led the boy to an out-of-the-way sofa.

The condo took about an hour to clean. (It would have taken less time if Neymar hadn't developed the habit of checking the lightbulbs, changing the linens, and doing similar tasks. Mrs. H. was worth the extra effort.) Neymar returned to the sofa to see Davi Lucca playing with magnets while Mrs. H. chattered away: "...don't just get married so we can have a _simcha_ and all get together. I don't want the next family gathering to be a funeral, you know."  
"I'm all set, Mrs. H.," announced Neymar. "Was Davi Lucca good?"  
"He was more interested in synagogue than any of my grandchildren have ever been - and my grandchildren are Jewish!" She chuckled. "And he's an excellent listener. You have a remarkable son, young man."  
"Thank you." Neymar ruffled Davi Lucca's hair. "I think so, too."  
"There's a tin of cookies with your payment," said Mrs. H. "Have a wonderful day!"  
"You, too! Thank you!"

"Did you like Mrs. H.?" asked Neymar as they drove to their next destination.  
"I think so," said Davi Lucca. "She has a lot to say. I lost track of who she was talking about. But she did say it was good that I'm bi-lang-al."  
"Bilingual," corrected Neymar. "That means that you speak two languages."  
"Oh. And she said you were her favorite...um...person from somewhere else, I forget the word."  
"Immigrant."  
"Yeah! Because you're her favorite not-family member."  
Neymar sighed. "I have to warn you, the other people we're going to aren't nice like Mrs. H. They're going to say mean things."  
"Like 'go home if you can't speak English'? A lot of people say that. I can handle it."  
Neymar didn't know how to feel about that.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be fantastic. :)


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